Thy teeth are like a flock of ewes that are newly'shorn, Which are come up from the washing, Whereof every one hath twins, And none is bereaved among them.

Thou art, all over, beautiful, my fair one, and, blemish, is there none in thee.

Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep Which go up from the washing; Which have all borne twins, And none is barren among them.

Oh that thou wert as my brother, That sucked the breasts of my mother! When I should find thee without, I would kiss thee; Yea, and none would despise me.

THEYA sister, have we, a little one, and, breasts, hath she none, What shall we do for our sister, in the day when she may be spoken for?